afterglow
by Ryfee
Summary: A sorceress, a knight, and their bond that could save and destroy them. — Squall x Rinoa. 03: But he doesn't remember  where they're supposed to meet.
1. NEVER LET ME GO

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**a f t e r g l o w**

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><p><strong>I.<br>**NEVER LET ME GO

The scent of flowers is strong, and she enjoys it as she keeps her eyes shut, trying to ignore the sound of sheets moving beside her. Lavenders, lilies, roses, fragrance even sweeter than any perfume – but they wane quicker than she thought they would, and her heart drops in disappointment. She can smell him better now though. Him, and reality.

One eye snaps open, copper brown orb scrutinizing the surroundings, swallowing everything in a quick observation. She spots him across the room, his back to her, smoke rising as he pours their morning coffee with the usual nimbleness, as if he's been trained for the task for years, as if they've shared the same room for forever.

"You're not going to wake up?" He doesn't smell of roses or lilies or lavenders, nor does he remind her of summer or spring (as he usually does, when there's only the two of them, their hearts beating as one) – at least, not today. This morning he smells of steel and bronze and metal. And ghosting behind it is the faint, repulsive stench of duty (blood).

Despite herself and heavy stupor weighing down on her eyelids, she shudders. "If I don't, will you come back to bed?"

A sigh was his answer. There's a rustle of paper, and soon his face is hidden behind _Daily __Balamb_. She tosses to another side, not willing to rise from bed just yet. "I had a dream." No answer, no response, but she knows he's listening. She makes an intricate gesture with her hands, drawing castles in the air. "A dream, and then a nightmare." When that still doesn't elicit as much of a derisive snort or his tired remark, she continues, reluctant; "I dreamed of you going so far away, and never coming back."

He finally turns (albeit slowly), and puts the newspaper away. "_Rinoa_." Most of the time, she likes the way he mouths her name, especially two years ago when her heart was still porcelain-fragile and beautiful like butterfly; it would flutter and fly and fly and fly, and she had liked it. But it sounds different this morning. "How many times should I tell you this—"

"I know, I _know_," she snaps, drowsiness receding abruptly and annoyance settling in. She gets up. He stares at her, and she dares return the gaze. "Will you come back?"

Pregnant silence shrouds them, for how long, she isn't sure. But he laughs then, and although he's always looked better with a smile on his scarred face, this laughter rings peculiarly in the air. "I will always come back." He encloses the gap between them, two meters reduced to one, fifty centimeters reduced to twenty.

She breathes in him, his aroma; she drinks in his chestnut brown eyes, his icy blue eyes, his visage. "As astute as ever," she mocks.

"What makes you think I won't? A dream's just a dream."

"I don't know," she finally answers, burying her head in his chest, hugging him tight. "Oh, I don't know, Squall."

The violets and gold outside the window grow brighter and brighter and still she doesn't let go, as if trying to cover the inexorable miles between them, the distance that will set them apart somewhere in the (nowpresentnow_soon_) future.

_I wish the knight and the sorceress were invincible. I wish we could be together forever._

But she doesn't say anything. And when he leaves five hours later, she doesn't say goodbye in fear of it being their last.

...

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><p><em>an: I've been wanting to write Squall/Rinoa since forever but somehow never managed to. So I'm really happy that I'm finally able to post this, even though this is just a drabble/one-shot collection instead of a chaptered project. The themes are based on drabble365days on LJ (which are plenty and really interesting)._

_Updates should come rather fast, I think. This collection will show snippets of how Squall and Rinoa cope with their relationship and the aftermath of war, the hardship and tragedy they have to face, the good things earned through sacrifice. I hope you'll enjoy the ride._

_Rated T for now, will probably turn M later on. Please tell me what you think; reviews are greatly appreciated!_

_- Ryfee_


	2. CHILDREN OF FATE

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**a f t e r g l o w**

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><p><strong>II.<br>**CHILDREN OF FATE

She wants to sleep. She wants to be embraced by oblivion, surrounded by poppies, and to never see anything anymore.

Only she can't.

She's somewhere behind this person, someone, a cursed woman, a _sorceress_, watching and shouting desperate screeches as shrill as bells lamenting deaths of fearless warriors.

But of course the _sorceress_ doesn't hear anything. She never does, and Rinoa, despite her hard and serious training of mind control in the past three years, knows this is a futile attempt. And so she just watches as the sorceress hovers in the air, wings glinting silver, feathers fair and white falling and trailing behind the woman like spring dews and winter frosts and autumn leaves and summer clouds all at once.

Only Rinoa doesn't actually _watch_. She's the sorceress (but she _isn__'__t_), and the formidable woman is forcing her to see things she doesn't want to see.

_I'm a selfish person. I want to have my eyes closed as the sorceress does the killing._

The first man to expel his last breath is no more than thirty, she judges with watery eyes; he tumbles onto the ground, his machine gun following not long after, his blood sputtering above him, a vigorous and quixotic fountain. His other comrades share the same fate. Together they plummet, an orchestra of lifeless marionettes all twisted and drenched in crimson liquor.

Inside the sorceress, Rinoa cries silently. And then louder and louder and louder although she knows the sorceress will remain oblivious and continue her heavenly judgment on celestial wings.

Much later, much, much later, Rinoa finds herself standing in the middle of piled bodies. Her eyes are as red as them, and as she sings her dirge with silent tears, the previously immaculate pale feathers fall all around her.

But they're scarlet now, a thousand ruby arrows finding their destination.

* * *

><p>There's blood on his gunblade. That, and more. He gives his sword a shake, a careless attempt to wave the dead's remnants off the steel. The sight before him doesn't nauseate him, all the misshapen parts of nameless bodies, all glazed with deep red paint – he wonders if he should be glad for that, thankful for being able to deadpan through a gruesome massacre.<p>

_I must be cursed._

His boots scuttle against the reeking ground, squelching as he trudges through the corpse playground, icy blue eyes oddly calm. At the other side of the area, a woman awaits. _My __sorceress_.

She's as blue as a daybreak sky, maroon wine licking the tip of her clothes (must be the enemies' blood, he mulls), but otherwise she's unharmed. Once they're close enough, he welcomes her into his arms, the warmth of her body pleasant.

"We must not tarry here." He rasps out, appalled by his husky voice.

"I know," she detaches herself from him reluctantly. Her eyes find his but they quickly turn away and fly to his sword, then to the dark splotches on his jacket and shirt. "You're hurt."

"They caught me off guard, is all. I'm fine."

She isn't listening. He stifles a groan as she chants under her breath, and soon his torso is wrapped in sedate light. The spell works its charm and he can feel his torn flesh being knitted to the way it was. All that remains is the murky red, the coalesced blood.

The glow is gone then, but he can perceive its trails lingering on his skin, half warm, half cold. But most of all he can _taste_ it… watery, salty. Like tears.

Squall flicks his gaze forward to the only way out. He then junctions Bahamut, all the while wishing the GF would be able to make him put this day behind somehow, and trying to decide which one is the worst of all, which one to forget first: the distorted bodies, the white eyes, or the blood.

...

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><p><em>an: I almost forgot how much I love this game and pairing. So this is the second installment, and I promise you there's a lot more to follow. I am lacking... "fluff" ideas though, so I'll gladly welcome some prompts if you happen to have any._

_Please tell me what you think; reviews are greatly appreciated._

_- Ryfee_


	3. TO THE END OF THE WORLD

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**a f t e r g l o w**

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><p><strong>III.<br>**TO THE END OF THE WORLD

The ice goddess disappears in a swirl of white mist followed by crystalline shards akin to pearls, hovering in the air for a while as they catch sunlight and flash intermittent sequins. Shiva always leaves the battlefield cold, but for once Squall is grateful for it, and this mess doesn't look as bad as it's supposed to be with icicles protruding from everywhere like ancient pillars of an ice castle.

No blood, or if there's any, it's not red but purple like the color of bruise. And inside their winter prison, these soldiers look almost peaceful… frozen in time, sleeping forever. And cold.

He staggers to his feet and pain promptly pulsates from the back of his skull. An alien voice echoes in his head as he chooses to press onward (grueling though it may be). His fingers feel numb as they slither around the hilt of his gunblade; his left shoulder, where a stray bullet had planted itself in just moments ago, despite already being healed by his last stock of Cure, still aches dully.

There's a loud, booming voice overhead. Its order is to find the _Commander _and arrest him. Squall turns another corner, ducking under overturned pillars and trudging his way across the dead. He will be fine, he keeps telling himself, adjusts his gunblade, and without a moment's hesitation, junctions Eden.

_But they make you forget._

It's Rinoa's voice, coming from far away (probably four years ago), in her blue dress laced with delicacy and confusion and concern.

_I know. But we have no other choice. We have to be strong._

Was his answer, and still is until today. He rounds a charred building toward the sound of engines. The air begins to shudder. He junctions Diablos. And then Doomtrain as an afterthought. Inside his head, voices begin to whisper, incomprehensible words sounding like spells and mantra, secrets of angels and gods digging a hole in his mind.

_I will never forget._

He never said it to her, but it's a vow as important as his life and honor as a Knight. He will not break it.

"There he is," the loud voice chirps gleefully at the sight of him revealing himself, and all guns turn in unison to mark his spot. "Surrender now, Commander Squall Leonhart."

He junctions Cerberus.

"And then what?" he takes three steps to the right. "Kill me?"

A chortle.

Squall's grip on his gunblade tightens. By now countless soldiers, all armed with guns, have surrounded him, waiting for the command to shoot.

He closes his eyes and imagines the place where he should be, the place of promise,

(because he will never forget)

and readies Lionheart.

"Kill

(the field of flowers, the endless sky, his love, his life, his promise, his vow)

_him_!"

(he will never forget he will never forget he will never forget)

The sound of gunshots is deafening.

(HEWILLNEVERFORGET)

The world bursts into an explosion of white and he sees Rinoa, smiling and dancing across the cerulean sky and flower fields and vast space and stars—

…_so if you come here, you'll find me._

The world turns still.

_I promise._

And black.

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><p>"We make a promise. We promise to see shooting stars together. But the thing is,<br>I can't remember where I'm supposed to meet you."

...

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><p><em>an: Honestly, I don't know how many chapters I'll put here, but for the time being I'm aiming for either 10 or 15 (or is it... too few?). I've also realized how it's been a depressing/angsty journey so far, but like I said, I suck at finding fluffy ideas for them - I think Squall/Rinoa's relationship is beautiful and dangerous, which can be both sweet and destructive. I hope I'll be able to write something heart-warming in future installments!_

_Prompts used:_  
><em>I. "Never let me go"; II. "Fate"; III. "Somewhere only we know".<em>

_Please tell me what you think so far? Reviews would be greatly appreciated._

_- Ryfee_


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